


Tick

by OrchidPeach



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Arguing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22872505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrchidPeach/pseuds/OrchidPeach
Summary: Sherlock and John get into an argument.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 43





	Tick

The tick of that damned clock was getting beyond annoying. Sherlock had half a mind to shoot it and put everyone out of their misery for the foreseeable future. But that would have to be a task for another time, right now he was going about the very important business of not working on his case.

At least he was being honest with himself, or half honest. Whatever. He would just have to ignore the clock for now, as his eyes stayed glued to the door. Fingers gliding along the hair of his bow, the violin sitting by his leg.

Strange, how he only just now noticed the sound of the clock, maybe he’s just not used to the quiet anymore. He’s become accustomed to a certain amount of noise. A presence that brought sound. Not that he was surprised by it, but acknowledging it and knowing it are separate tasks with separate responses.

Sherlock shook his head, and decided that he’d _feel_ another time for now he’d wait. It’d already been an hour, never had Sherlock thought he was a man of patience, but if he was surely now he would consider it tested. However, if he was to leave where would he go? The pub? The restaurant? Maybe the sister, he could find her address surely it wouldn’t be too hard, he already had the name and he knows its in the city. Yes, that’d be an excellent start.

He stood up, setting the bow down on the table, and pulling on his coat and shoes. Just as he pulled the door open, he came face to face with John who’s eyes were wide with surprise, Sherlock also couldn’t help but notice the pink of his skin from the cold and the way he held his arms to himself to protect his fingers underneath his arms.

“John.”

A clear of his throat. “Sherlock.”

“You’re back.” Sherlock says simply, no emotion in his voice. Johns eyes trace over Sherlock, looking at his state of dress. Still in the pajamas he’d been wearing over an hour ago, now in a coat and shoes ready to leave.

“Yeah, I-er- I’ve had a chance to calm down a bit.”

“Is that all you needed? From the way you put it, I was never to see you again.”

“Oh, come on, Sherlock, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Your exact words were: ‘I don’t know why I’ve put up with you so long, I’m leaving, don’t hold your breath for me to return.’”

“Yes, I needed some air. Of course, I meant I was coming back.”

Sherlock shrugged, stepping back into the flat taking off his coat. “Didn’t matter anyway, I knew you were coming back no matter how you meant it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, you forgot your things, so at the very least you’d come back to collect them, realize you were making a mistake, and stay.”

John smiled. “And if you were so sure I’d be coming back, why were you leaving just now? I presume it was to look for me since it seems you no longer want to go out.”

Sherlock lifted his bow, back now turned to John. “You were taking too long.”

“Did you start to miss me, Sherlock?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned back to face the man. “We have a case to solve. We need the money.”

“The great Sherlock couldn’t solve it by himself?” John dropped his coat on the sofa and began unlacing his shoes. “You’ve had an hour to do so.”

“I was distracted…” His eyes followed John as he kneeled then stood. “…by the clock. Its ticking is maddening. You should get rid of it.”

John stepped forward into Sherlock's space, slightly having to angle his face due to the height difference. “You were coming to get me because you want me to take the clock down so you could think?”

“Yes.”

John nodded eyes darting to Sherlock’s lips, he leaned up just a little bit, faces inched close together. “Okay.” Then he was gone, crossing the room, grabbing a chair and using it to boost himself to take the clock down from the wall. Sherlock didn’t turn to watch him. Instead he looked at the empty space John had just filled, and acknowledged that ever since John had been back he hadn’t even heard the tick of the clock. His chest warmed as he fought a smile and sat on the couch, tucking his violin under his chin and beginning to play, mind going back to the case, after all it did still need solving.


End file.
